STILL IN PROGRESS
"By the Spines of Ckleghyyn, is that a statue of Haken Wastia?"
Erif to Ray Shishigami after joining the Shakespeares
Erif'Nevar Huntrillae is an alien criminal mastermind with his only motivation being infamy. He worked for various criminals in his years as well as himself.
Erif hatched in the terrible, dark, rocky jungle world of Gaal, and was instantly bound to the tribe of Huntrillae. At the uncounted age of three, he slew a Gaalian Fire Beast, which is a formidable foe for most humans but a beginner Gaalgaereth's first kill in most cases. But even for a Gaalgaraeth, such a vicious and brutal race of reptilian savages, to kill one at such an early age was quite an accomplishment. And luckily at that age he hadn't near enough brain capacity to hold the huge ego that might have come from such an act.
He had slain the beast when he was taken along on the arm of his mother during a hunting trip, to be explained all the ways of hunting by his father and clan coward, Taalyth'Nevar. Gaalgaereth babies do not have pouches, or cradles, they instead have claws that fall off later in adulthood that are used to cling on to anything - so hard that even some H.M.Vs might have trouble tugging it off. A Gaalgaereth female had skin, or scales on the arms that were designed specifically for the claws. They where flexible and broke and healed easy. When the infant's claws clung to his mother, the skin broke and allowed the claws within, then they sealed instantly and so tightly that the baby wouldn't be able to let go if it wanted. To have the baby removed you would need an H.M.V or the approval of the mother, who could practically "tell" her skin to open and allow the baby out. Erif was looking at his father with bulbous eyes and slitted pupils, silent as the Assassinbugs that roamed their land, killing their kind with a bite. Luckily he was not a human infant, else he would have been crying so loud that it would have scared away all the wildlife and the hunting trip would have been pointless. But he was a Gaalgaereth, and they were born silent and deadly. His father was explaining the way of he hunt, when out of nowhere a tentacle of flame illuminated their perch in the trees and licked his father's side.
His father gave a somewhat human like yelp, which now makes Erif despise being the son of the one who that voice belongs to. His father jumped many feet high and sat upon a different branch, leaving his mate and Erif vulnerable on the burning branch. But of course, vulnerable was an overstatement. On the contrary, sometimes female Gaalgaereth are seen as even more terrible and savage than their male counterparts, for in times of stress or in any combat situation, razor-sharp claws sprout upon their hands and spines like sharp rock spires and spikes break through the soft, flexible scales on their backs, and their teeth extend from the comfortable position within the gums and are sharper than the mythological vampire teeth of old. Lodged somewhat safely upon his mother's arm, Erif blinked his eyes and gave a slightly pathetic growl. His female parent gave a smile, if you could call it that, then gave a vicious growl.
The Fire Beast leaped from the shadows, its sabertooth-like black fangs, charred from the fire, jutting out of its mouth. Its fireproof hair stood on end, and its three eyes kept a watch on them all - each eye completely focused on one of them. They moved and the eye followed - and the same almost went for the beast itself - any movement one of them made, the beast did its best to mirror. The beast opened its mouth extraordinarily wide and an orange glow began to grow in its throat, and fire was about to shoot -
But Erif's mother was too quick. She darted towards the beast the instant it swung its jaws open - and as its three eyes were somewhat on the forehead of the peculiar thing, when its jaws opened so wide like that the eyes were hidden behind the snout. It couldn't see them move - its one weakness. Erif's mother stuck a razor-sharp claw in the heart of the beast - the glow in its throat died - and then she threw it off the edge of the twenty meter tall tree and it yelped and squealed till it hit the ground with a splat. Erif's mother licked her claws and then dove off the tree. Erif's father followed suit. They both landed on all fours like a cat, safely upon the ground with no noise or injuries.
But Fire Beast's hunt in packs. As did Gaalgaereths. Erif's father and mother exchanged looks - the mother's glare saying, "you coward" and his father's saying, "thanks . . . "
The two then stayed on guard - a thing most Gaalgaereths would not do - they would switch the odds - become the predator, and make the predator the prey.
But Fire Beast's were too smart and they always seemed to outwit their hunters, so his parents were smart and made a point of sticking to the place they were. And as fire attracted the things - and the tree above them was currently a blazing beacon - they had a pretty decent chance of seeing the things soon. And they were right. Out of the shadows one leapt - his mother killed it instantly - another came - his father had a little trouble fighting it. And then another came - straight for Erif. In a fit of adrenaline Erif pulled his claws from his mother's arm - something thought impossible - and turned mid air and sliced the beast across the cheek. It fell to the ground with Erif and was getting up but somehow the baby Erif was quicker and he jabbed all three of its eyes out and then bit its heart. It gave a squirm, then died. The rest off the pack veered off, their leader having been killed by a mere baby. They didn't want to take their chances with the grown-ups.
Many years later, when he was no more than twelve his father murdered the clan chieftain with the chieftain's own claws and took up his place in the leadership. He was proud of his new title. By this time his father had also murdered Erif's mother just for kicks - and perhaps because she always despised him. Erif never understood that marriage. A few more years later, when he was around fifteen, adulthood for Gaalgaereths, Erif decided to truly become a full grown Gaalgaereth. And to do that one is normally expected either to kill someone of great importance, go on a long hunting trip and have everyone believe him dead then return with an amazing catch of game or finally challenge the entire clan to a Battle of Claws, in which the challenger fights all his opponents - being the entire clan - at once, normally odds around twenty to one, and fight them in a duel; to the death. Normally this is seen as the true way to become an adult, the one way to show everyone that you are the boss, the man in charge, the toughest guy.
But that was not Erif's style. Instead he hatched a plot even greater in showing his true abilities than fighting the clan - for that is not the way of the Gaalgaereth. They don't normally fight in open combat in inexplicable odds.
They fight in packs or hunt silently and take out their targets quickly. But a Battle of Claws has been known to take even a week in full combat in a small arena!
That would never happen to a true Gaalgaereth.
So soon news reached the clan that their clan leader was dead, murdered by one Erif'Nevar. And the clan leader was none other Erif's father himself, the clan coward, Taalyth'Nevar. Having assassinated his father, Erif was immediately crowned clan leader, that being the way their society worked. So after murdering his father he slept in his bed. When he awoke he awoke to find the entire clan kneeling before him.
His plan was not over. He then, a few days later announced that they were going on a campaign to take the other tribes or at least a few of them. Upon hearing this the clan went wild with approval. The plan was working. Precisely a week and two deaths later, (one of the deaths being one who wanted to become the new clan leader by assassinating him, the other wanting to prove Erif's mettle by challenging him to open combat, both suffering quick and brutal deaths) they raided another tribe. They overpowered them quickly and were adopted into the tribe of Huntrillae. They raided two more tribes and took them as their own. Now they were a quite formidable force of nearly five hundred warriors and hunters. They now faced the Sages, the despised tribe of Gaalgaereth that practiced some strange form of science they called magic, but Erif knew as powerful technology. They attacked one more tribe and now had half a dozen hundred in their army. They assaulted the Sages.
In the battle that Erif so gloriously led, the sages were defeated entirely, Erif not daring to spare but one of them. But he also lost many of the tribe, near a hundred. But no matter. In time they would grow, even though they did not breed very quickly.
But they did not have time to breed, and Erif was fine with this, for it was his plan. For Erif's plan was not to lead his clan into glorious triumph of the planet, it was in fact to become known and feared for controlling the second largest clan on Gaal, and then to become even more feared for killing that entire clan off. In one of the oh so rare mountains that dotted Gaal, there was a nest of Gaalian Dragons, far more vicious and dangerous than Fire Beasts. They were winged and were nearly a hundred times larger. And this nest was home to a swarm of them, most likely containing near a thousand of the things. Now normally if a dragon was encountered than perhaps five Gaalgaereths could kill it with casualties. But five hundred tired and weak Gaalgaereths against a swarm of one thousand dragons? Surely not!
Exactly. They would all die, as was Erif's terrible plan. So he led the reluctant and weary army into the swarm, and he backed off just as the dragons began to burn them all. He galloped away on all fours and was at a safe distance before any of them knew he was gone.
But how would anyone know of this terrible feat? How would he achieve infamy if no one was there to witness the deed? Well there was. He had called upon all the tribes to watch him and his army defeat the dragons, something even the mighty Grashbirs, the greatest and most powerful clan didn't even dare do. Most came to watch them die, some thought they would truly succeed, and others came to warn them away. But when Erif ran away most thought he was turning from battle, being a coward, but those he charged past swore that he was grinning and perhaps that he even winked. And finally when the story made its rounds through Gaal, changing as it went, it eventually was evident that it was a great scheme of his, and it was made an even worse act than it truly was. Some stories said that he led one thousand against eight thousand and the dragons didn't burn them but ate them, tearing them slowly limb from limb, all because Erif bribed the dragons with his vast treasury of gold, gold which those dragons so loved.
But even though Erif would not admit it, he both survived the encounter with the dragons, an encounter in which even some onlookers and spectators were killed, and he achieved this great feat of wickedness only because of shear, terrible luck.
Decades later, at age forty, after running from the Grashbirs for his all life, (although running was a strange way of putting it, as he killed all who crossed his path) he finally grew bored of the planet and broke into the vault of the Huntrillae, which was taken by the Grashbirs, and stole an artifact from the Sages: a spaceship which had loaded on it an H.M.V. Erif flew away from the planet with one final act of evil: he bombed a couple tribes and also performed a hit and run on the nest he so many years earlier performed the greatest act of terribleness ever committed, at least by a Gaalgaereth.
Finally the little planet of gray become all but a speck of dust, and Erif soared through the heavens, having learned how to fly the machine in the manuals written by the Sages.
Since then he has taken part in many, many crimes and has been in many mercenary parties and has had his name appear numerous times in numerous places. He has become an expert H.M.V, spaceship and hoverbike maneuver . . . er and has gotten very good with the Sages' laser weapons.
Now normally that would be a good ending to a bio, but having it come in later than this wouldn't fit. So, unfortunately it must stay there due to small problems. Erif's first job was with a group of mercenaries composed of mostly aliens, one actually being from the tribe of Sages back on his planet of Gaal. Erif did have some tussles with him but eventually the two actually became good friends, and the Sage, named Firno'Brak, actually taught him how to better fly and pilot his mech as well as speak in human language. He also taught him how to better use the guns he had.
One time, on a solo raid, Erif was gunned out of the sky by security guns, and crash landed on the planet. Luckily his mech was undamaged, as were his supplies of Gaalgaereth wine, but the ship was in no state to travel. So he left it and has since been hitchhiking through the galaxy, hitching any rides he can.
And by hitching it's more like stopping a vehicle and making the pilot take him where he wants at gunpoint and sometimes killing the driver after the ride is done.
Erif joined Ray Shishigami in fighting Masquerade and has and died in the process.